


Roulette

by VanessaSQuest



Category: Criminal Minds
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-10-16
Updated: 2011-10-16
Packaged: 2017-10-24 16:12:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,369
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/265435
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VanessaSQuest/pseuds/VanessaSQuest
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Please Read and Review, it keeps me motivated, likewise, I've never wrote a fuck-or-die trope, so I'm especially curious how my take on it goes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Roulette

Roulette

There were a small number of days that Reid could specifically pin-point as moments he truly wished he had the power to make his brain self-destruct on instead of deal with. That desire, while not a talent he physically possessed, was still there.

They had given the profile. They had even made strong determinations as to who the key operators were, hell- they even raided the first suspected location…

His head lolled to the side, it barely felt attached. Somehow, the police failed to mention that they had also previously used explosives.

So, instead of being prepared for the roof to literally come down on them, Seaver, Hotch and Reid took the rear while Morgan took the front with Prentiss and Rossi. By the way the contact plates looked to have been placed- Morgan’s team had tripped them.

The unsubs, now identified as a Charles Lauers and Patricia Dean had been abducting victims, recording their own not-so-private snuff collection to some top-dollar payers, and then dumped the bodies into the land-fill. It wasn’t particularly impressive what they did though.

What was impressive was HOW they managed to control the intended victim.

The entire scenario was recorded from only one perspective, but the unsubs had some leverage- some WAY to make their victims will and beg for the torture well beyond what they could take… and then? When their bodies were left for discovery? In a hospital any number of towns over, a missing loved one would show up, shot anywhere from once fatally to several non-fatal injuries that resulted in fatality, one even had survived the multiple gunshot wounds, but had yet to regain consciousness over the course of the investigation.

It was odd, because the victims of the snuff itself hadn’t been shot or even threatened with a gun by the look of the film.

The victimology had been all over the map over the four bodies they had found, a young Chinese-American woman- 24, a 30-something African American man with bone structure to be proud of, a Peruvian teenaged girl, and a Caucasian woman in her mid-thirties. They were all very attractive, but the age span was wide. It was more like a vague shopping list of things to have.

Ears rang, Reid spotted Seaver on the ground, he could see movement- the kind of fast movement he knew wasn’t from anyone on his end.

If he had to say, Ashley was probably right up their alley… He threw his weight into the door and knocked it over her, shielding her from immediate view.

After that, he hit the wall and drew his revolver. He wondered where Hotch was… he hoped he was alright, he had been the first one in.

He spotted the older man, unresponsive on the floor. He hated flash-bombs, and debris. He was pretty sure it was a tie at the moment. He couldn’t readily focus more than seven feet from him, the bright flash having done a number on his eyes and the sound of roof caving had done something to his hearing.

He’d have been happy there wasn’t any fire, except he knew that was because they needed to be able to clean up someone pretty…

“Honey, I think I’ve found our winner.” Patricia Dean drawled out, “We haven’t had a twink yet.”

Reid kept his gun trained toward her, but there was no way he could make a shot, his head pulsed angrily. If he did just shoot… he aimed the gun toward what he suspected was a wall to her side and fired before he collapsed.

Coming around, he knew it was worse than he could have expected.

He had somewhere in his mind hoped he’d have triggered someone to come rush in from the other rooms- it was a ridiculous hope, the others were probably just as fazed by the flash bomb as Hotch and Seaver had been… as Reid had been if he were being honest. The fact he had managed to stand upright was only attributed to his position near a support beam when the bomb did detonate. Before it lost hold of it’s own section, it had shielded him from the brunt of the shockwave. Something Ashley and Aaron had not been as fortunate to be near.

His eyes widened, they didn’t have them too, did they?! His head jerked upright to look around. He recognized this room very well. Garcia had somehow managed to actually de-encrypt the feed and witness the last murder, well, visual only.

The room was different in this perspective. The warm, sensual crimsons and the cool rich royal purples in the drapes in the film had come off very noir on tape. In person? There was nothing sensual about this, it was quite honestly horrifying. Then he saw the camera pointed from the closet. His chest constricted.

It was what was behind the camera that had kept them glued to that lens.

“Oh god… Aaron!” His voice creaked, he swallowed heavily. By his position in the room, apparently he drew the winning ticket. His body tightened reflexively, as if he could shrink himself small and find a way around this… but he knew that wasn’t how this would work.

He gave himself a cursory view, he needed to see what he had to work with. He knew it wasn’t much, he had four inches of motion for each wrist, handcuffs- his shirt was open, his vest was gone- both his sweater vest and his Kevlar actually. His pants were on, but undone to give a bit of a view to the camera. He was barely on the edge of the bed, he knew soon his knee would start to protest this specific position with more than most of his weight falling onto it.

He focused back behind the camera, Hotch was fully clothed except for his Kevlar and his gun by the look of it. He was sure his suit jacket was safe and secure in the SUV they had driven in.

“Oh, honey, he’s up already.” A woman said, she seemed to materialize to Hotch’s side, he recognized the gun in her hand as his own.

“Get AWAY from him!” Reid screamed, he struggled against the restraints.

“Oh why aren’t you energetic!” She smiled, “I’ll go over the rules for you then. We’re going to play a bit of a… modified Russian Roulette. You’re familiar with that game, aren’t you? You have a revolver, I’m sure you’ve heard of it. In this gun there are 3 bullets. 50-50 chance, we’ll ask you a bit of ‘would you rather’ question- you have a minute to decide. 60 seconds. If you don’t call out the answer, we assume you want us to take the shot. After each shot, we leave the bullet in, his odds get better and better- so we move to a more dangerous target, unless, of course, you act… more agreeable for the camera. You see, right now, you have the power of LIFE in your hands. Any questions?”

“…You said I have the power of life, if I do EVERYTHING you say- you don’t shoot him? Then what? You send him home unhurt? It’s that easy of a trade?”

“…There is nothing easy about these trades. But that is correct. No one here will shoot your friend here unless you put us in the position to. Of course, if you refuse to play our little game, you will watch your friend die, and then you’ll be free to go.” She smiled.

Reid’s mind flashed over the recent shooting statistics of the area, it had spiked up more than what was originally thought to be relevant to the recession… how many victims had there really been?

“Why are you using my gun?”

She smiled. “Because I really, really want you to play.” She kissed the tip of the barrel then touched it to Hotch’s knee. “So, let’s begin. After I tell you your options, the camera will be turned on and filming will commence. We’ll start with an easy one, pop the cherry as it were. Simply accept a blow job, of course, that requires you perform. If you do not get it up in one minute- that will of course default to…” She lipped the word, ‘Pow’ as she made a shooting gesture at Hotch’s knee.

His face fell hard. “I have a question before you start time… If I may- what have you done to him?”

“To your friend? Currently this is the state he was found in. As I said, we won’t do anything to him that you don’t allow us to.”

“…Aaron… Aaron, I need you to stay asleep for a bit…” He voiced in a smooth timbre, the tremble there was all the hint he would give to his own panic.

“Time starts now, you have 1 minute to decide.”

Reid closed his eyes, he had to think, “I consent. I just… have to get it up.” He refused to look at her, no, he had to find something- ANYTHING that would let him get it up. Even with the kama sutra, and all the porn he’d ever watched or lived through there- a minute wasn’t enough to adjust the sheer volume of his situation. How the hell was he supposed to get aroused with Hotch bound to a chair- potentially forced to hear and watch him like this…

His secret lover, now only a mere 5 meters away… but even that wasn’t enough to drown out the panic.

“Oh, I’m sorry. That’s time. The mind might be willing, but apparently the flesh isn’t.” She spun the barrel and clipped it back in, cocked the hammer, took aim at Hotch’s left knee- there was a click as the edge of the hammer hit the rim of the revolver’s empty casing. “Oh, my, now aren’t you lucky. First one was free. I wonder how long his odds will fair. Saying neither of you have anything to recover over, we’ll proceed to the next round. That would be shoulder.”

She pointed with the gun. Reid locked eyes with the man standing at the periphery. He hadn’t spoken yet, but he assumed Charles wouldn’t offer him any encouragement.

“Or, of course, you could give Charlie here some head. You’d like that, wouldn’t you darling?”

The man smirked.

Reid recoiled. He knew what the answer to this was, but if he said it right away, it would mean it would happen immediately. He had to draw out the time.

“He has to climax, and you have to swallow.” She said with a sing-songy voice of someone clearly getting off on the situation. He threw up a bit into the back of his mouth but swallowed it down. By his tally he had another thirteen seconds.

“I’ll do it.” He grimaced.

“Oh, no, no, no sweetie, you have to act like you enjoy it.”

Reid flinched, act like he’d ENJOY this? Her rules played through his head, if he didn’t then she’d escalate targets, and what if they did ask him to get it up again, he still didn’t think he could-

“But I can’t use my hands?”

“Oh, no, you’re parked.” She smiled, “Good try though. Did they teach you hostage negotiations or something in the FBI? It’s exciting, I’ve never met a fed before.”

“Please, let me blow you, Charlie. I want to.” His words were hollow, the emotion there was one of drive, but not of pleasure.

“That’s more like it. See, I knew you’d be fun!”

Reid can’t help but thinking the continuous pelvic thrust into his mouth as anything less than the most clinical, boring blow jobs he’d ever contrived in the history of his sexual life, but he made sure to use enough technical skill to keep the man from reaming him too deeply. If he lost his voice there was no telling how Hotch would fare. In the back of his mind he tried to deduce why Hotch was still unconscious, he wasn’t sure how long he, himself, had been out of it- but surely Hotch would wake up eventually? He knew it would be a mixed blessing when he did. On one hand, Hotch would be awake- proof of life… but on the other hand, could he really handle Hotch watching this? Watching him do these things? Did he even get to know the rules? What if Hotch became combative?

…That was the worst what if question in history. Of course he would be more resistive to this. For a moment he was grateful it was him. He could endure this for Hotch, he loved the man enough to go through hell and back, if they had grabbed Seaver, how fast would she rightly cave? He knew he was buying time, but the impatient thrusts were being coupled with hands in his hair to pull him in deeper. He had to bring the man to climax before he got hurt. He increased his sucking to create a proper vacuum.

He told himself about how physics in a vacuum differ from physics in air. He recalls his own construction of a vacuum from a pool motor that had been thrown out on the side of the road when he was six. He had actually managed to demonstrate in the seventh grade that principle of a ball-bearing and a feather of equal mass as they fell at the same rate.

At any rate, Charlie let out a keen as he thrust in more, he lost his load. The heat hit the back of Reid’s throat and he swallowed before he made himself conscious of the taste. It tasted like devastation, he didn’t need a flavor index for that or a point of comparison. He almost laughed, a point of comparison?! Really? Did he really think he was going to get out of this alive…?

Charlie pulled back, sated, apparently for the moment and slumped back into his chair just off camera.

“Let me guess, Charlie, you actually like asparagus.” Reid offered, he really would have preferred to not know that personal factoid about the man but it didn’t change his knowledge on the matter.

Patricia gave a small laugh, “I keep telling him to lay off it.” She smirked, “You didn’t exactly do well though. That took a bit long, same target. Charlie, you’re going to have to get back up, well- unless your new friend here would rather you save your strength. Next- you have to let Charlie here rub you up, you need to get hot and bothered or our clients won’t believe you’re enjoying yourself.”

Reid’s body roiled on itself, he cracked his neck left and right. He kept looking at Hotch. “You’re changing rules on me Patricia, you’re making up time limits that weren’t there before and then you’re not putting them in…”

“Oh, no you don’t. I’ve told you- perform well, look excited- he benefits from it. So if I were you, I’d grow up and get over your silly little inhibitions because otherwise, well, we’re all going to have some problems.”

“So what exactly IS my challenge this round?” He spat back, anger rolled across his face leaving his eyelids hooded, how much humiliation did this woman really think he would just tolerate?! He flinched, all of it, of course… if he didn’t… god, Aaron…

“I get you’re not in the mood, but you’re a guy, so man up. Charlie here’s dappled. He’ll find a way to hit something for you to get you to at least stand at half-attention.”

“So you’re saying he’s going to grope me and my job is to make it look like I enjoy it- then you point the gun somewhere other than his chest? Yes?”

“Bingo.” She smiled, “Now you look motivated.”

Reid refused to tell the woman that he did his best work under extreme terror… but he hoped if Aaron was coming around, that he realized Reid was doing his best to buy time. He was at 57 seconds.

“I consent.” He said again, his voice hollow. He was sure she was recording the audio, it would never, ever hold up in court- but he still knew he had to exchange these un-pleasantries. “Charlie, touch me. Please.” He let his own voice resonate he wouldn’t close his eyes, he wouldn’t leave that woman with his gun pointed at his Hotch out of his sight…  
But locking eyes with Aaron’s form, he measured for any signs of returning consciousness, Charlie inadvertently found one of his erogenous spots. He let out an involuntary shudder. His shoulders trembled, he stiffened his back. In the recesses of his mind he recalled how when he had started at the FBI he had taken courses on body language. He had been coerced by one Senior Agent Gideon at the time to attempt to use it as an outward skill as well as an internal one. Basically, the man told him in too-few words to make someone on the team think he wanted to be best-buddies to prove he could convince an unsub of the same thing.

Of course he chose Morgan, and oddly they did wind up as friends afterwards, but still-

He didn’t want that correlation in his mind. He wasn’t going to enjoy this even if he made it look like it. Clinically he knew what body language would need to be, what he’d study and look for to decipher desire and force. While he wouldn’t be able to fully stop his eyes from rolling to their left upper corners, he’d still be able to make gasping noises and the sounds they’d assume were desire.

He’d faked more impressive scenes with people who weren’t trying to kill him… after all, he had been ‘straight’ enough for Lila Archer for a whole month before he could fully convince her their schedules would just never let it work out. He pulled himself forward, to maximize the contact, he was more intent to watch Patricia, the dominant in this partnership.

She seemed appeased, she was lazily drawing circles on Aaron’s stomach.

The man was starting to come aware of the ministrations, “A-Aaron…” Reid drawled out, “…You need… to stay relaxed, I’ve got this… covered… Ahhh…” He let his voice mimic the sounds of a sexual encounter and Patricia seemed appeased by it. He still felt flaccid, but he didn’t sound that way on film.

“Oh, now- you need to get a little closer than that. Charlie keep going… help the man out.”

Reid yelped when a hot hand fished him out from his pants, the mood he had been tonally suggesting was falling, he didn’t find that particularly fair. There was a stiff stroke of his shaft but the contact did nothing for him, if anything it made him grow colder. She let out a shiver but tried to play it off as anything besides revolt.

He squeezed his eyes shut and looked away from the camera, and more importantly the person behind it… he had just seen Aaron’s eyes open. He did not want to see him come to to see THIS. He blushed, he felt so disgusting and ashamed, Aaron could see some other man fondling him. Patricia’s tone interrupted him.

Her voice might have mirrored his own dark feelings at the moment, “Cut that coy shit out, look at the fucking camera!” She clicked the hammer back to the gun, Reid’s eyes flew up to it to see where she was pointing.

She smirked happily, his eyes were back on target.

Patricia rest the handle to Reid’s revolver to her ear, the barrel tipped to be just beyond Hotch.

“Glad to see you’re still motivated. Charlie, honey, you’ve got to help him a bit more. Try love bites. I want his cheeks that cutesy pink blush, the older ones will eat that shit UP. And you- keep watching that camera or I’ll have to void your turn. I get you’re trying, but really… you need to do better.”

Reid locked eyes with Hotch behind the camera. The shame he felt made it easy to blush or go ghostly pale, however his blood-pressure would opt to play it. He managed to be thankful for small favors, he did blush , his cheeks were crimson, his eyes even started to water. He didn’t want Hotch to know what he’d already done, and he sure as hell didn’t want him to watch as he did more.

Charlie laid slimy trails of his sticky saliva as he let his tongue maneuver Reid’s neck and chest. It bobbed where his clavicle dipped inward and the skin didn’t have a bony structure to keep it more raised. Teeth grazed bone and Reid’s teeth clattered, he opted to categorically ignore the spots of his that have now been laid bare for perverts on the internet to see. What would it matter? He had no idea where the team was, Patricia was losing her patience, and Hotch was awake, there was no way this wasn’t going to escalate in another round.

His inability to get it up sealed that he was going to have to do whatever she asked or she’d kill Aaron, he’d have to watch her, with his gun… He let out a throaty call as Charlie bit the nape of his neck unexpectedly. The pained sound seemed to put Patricia in a much more compliant mode.

“REID!” Hotch just learned, Reid was sure, that he was hand-cuffed. Reid let out a faint smile, that’s right- at least if he was going to die, he’d at least get to say goodbye to the one man he’d ever so fully and truly loved.

The teary mist in his eyes, the soft blush, the smile- apparently that was enough for a cut scene because Patricia was up, clapping and waving Reid’s gun around with gusto. “Charlie, perfect- take a break… you! Finally you’re showing some promise. And Aaron, I see you’re finally joining us. It’s alright if we skip those nasty formalities of last names, right? I’ll call you Aaron, and you Spencer, it’ll be so much more… personal that way. Your friend here has been playing a game of Russian Roulette for the past forty minutes. You, you are one well liked person. He’s only let you get shot at once, and that was a default.” She shrugged.

Spencer let out a shaky breath, so he did get to hear the rules, that made it… no, nothing made this easier.

“You see, each round will get more and more interesting. Spencer here still can’t get it up though, and thanks to your visit to the house we’re out of Viagra…” She clicked her tongue, “But that’s neither here nor there. Spencer is an eager people-pleaser that fault aside.”

Reid blanched, is that how she saw this? He didn’t dare look anywhere other than Aaron, Patricia, and that damned camera in front of him.

“But now that you’re awake, you can coach him… keep his momentum. If he fails, you’ll be the one to suffer for it. We’re back to your knee. Don’t worry Spencer, we won’t try to get you up right now… you’re having stage fright, I get that. Charlie, on the other hand, seems to be back on his second wind… so I believe this next round will be anal, or knee.” She smiled with a giddiness that made Reid gag.

“Reid have her take the shot.”

“Oh I wouldn’t say that just yet. This round is going to happen, it can happen while it’s still your knee, or after I’ve dumped three shots into you. Don’t you fret, I have at least two sets for this gun and I still have my favorite with me.”

Reid whispered, “38…”

Hotch looked at the younger man, his eyes didn’t seem to be focusing on anything, just looking in their direction.

“…23…”

“Reid, tell her no!”

“…10…” He took a deep breath.

“Please, Charlie… please… f…” He swallowed hard his head bowed but he immediately looked back at the camera and Patricia. “Do me, Charlie… please do me.”  
Hotch’s face fell, mouth agape. Reid gazed at Patricia, he measured her reactions more than he even cared to map the hurt on his own lover’s face.

“…Aaron… there are rules… I have to follow rules… and I will. I will follow them, and I promise-” His voice stuttered. “I swear I’ll get you home… I… I might not make it behind you… but I swear…”

“Oh that’s touching. Now, Aaron, this is a very important scene, so don’t go interrupting and making him lose his momentum, because otherwise, he fails and you still get shot.”

“…And then you stop?”

“Don’t answer that! Aaron don’t! This… damn it this is hard enough don’t…” Reid shook.

“Keep in mind the scene will start in another thirty seconds. Charlie, use the lube under the bed. It’ll be more dramatic looking.” Charlie nodded in response and went for the rape kit they kept underneath where Reid was propped.

His eyes widened when he saw what was in there. His body shook as he retrained his eyes on the camera. There was no unseeing that treasure trove now, but for right now the lubricant options were the least of his concerns. The plugs, the wooden toys, the spreader bars and the tools to allow for double and triple penetration… that was more disheartening.

He forced himself to think about Jack. About Jack growing up with his Aunt Jess because he fucked this up and got Aaron killed. That alone made his resolve return, he shut off a part of himself, he told himself in his mind over and over that he didn’t need fear right now.

“Is this what he used to do to you, Patricia?” Aaron’s voice cut into Spencer with the sharp edge of his tongue that had somehow turned into a knife. “Did your dad record himself raping you? Is that where this comes from? Is it?!”

Patricia smiled, “For that…”

“I CONSENT Patricia, I’m telling you, I consent- I want this… I do. I deserve this… it’s my fault, MINE Patricia NOT his, ignore him!” Reid railed.

The leer on her face didn’t go away. “And that was a very mean thing your friend just said… for that, Charlie is going to fuck you with the strap on at the same time.”

Spencer nodded his head, he glared at Aaron, he prayed he could get through to him to not instigate her further. This was a battle of time.

“…What’s the goal? Charlie’s climax?” He shivered.

She laughed. Reid’s heart constricted, that was not a good sign for him.

“No, I think you need to be the one to finish up this time. Charlie if you get too tired you can switch him over to the automatic.”

His knee twitched, he could see in the corner of the room a crude looking piston-designed apparatus. He could warrant a guess it’s purpose.

…There was no amount of lube in the world that could quantitatively open him wide enough for that to be anything remotely pleasurable. Charlie, in sheer will to show his own sexual sadism, made damn sure he hit him in hard, awkward angles, none of which hitting near his prostate or giving him a pattern he could even pretend to work with.

Reid focused at Hotch, always making sure his face was show-cased by the lens as Charlie gave out and his machine kicked in.

Somehow he’d thought it would be worse, but perhaps by being so numb, and so sure the unfeeling thing that Charlie had been thrusting inside him for the past 20 minutes was only going to get worse, he managed the impossible. No, not arousal, he stayed upright. He kept his legs from folding and puncturing him on the machine that wouldn’t even notice if it was ripping through his intestinal lining. It, at least, was designed to hit the prostate. It still didn’t help.

Sex with no arousal, no desire…? Sure he could manage to fake it. But this was never sex. This had never been sex, it was using areas he had at certain points used for that fashion, but this was not a thing that could get him off…

‘If I don’t get off… she’s going to shoot him… damn it, can’t I even think in a more helpful way?!’ Reid flinched, he was chafing in a bad way, he wondered if by some off chance he could make another couple of hours of this if he’d even want to anymore?

Something startled him. There was something cold, tingly actually, now coating his member. He lost sight of Aaron and the camera which he had been blindly staring past for the last thirty minutes. Charlie was ‘helping him along’ with a nitrogen oxide salve. The mechanical effect was instant flag-pole despite the clearly lagging emotional response… well, that was half-true. Emotionally he’d love to get off just to get off the machine, but then what? The next one would be worse… he knew that hands down… Did he even still have it in him to say ‘yes’?

Then there was a quaint little pump he was affixed to. His own eyes widened in horror, he searched for Patricia, he should never have left HER out of his view—where was she? Where?! He scanned the room to spot her, she was whispering in an erotic manner to Aaron her plans.

“Spencer here seems to be taking a bit too long, I feel a little bad… he can’t even enjoy this much… oh how do you think he’ll fare the next few rounds with such a poor performance… so, we’ll help him out, but then, the gun’s going to the thigh on you, mister.” She smiled. “I can’t wait to shoot you.”

“Then stop it now and do it.”

“Patricia, don’t you think it’s cruel for you to ignore me like that?” Reid cut over Hotch’s provocations. The man shot him a hurt look, he assumed the hurt look was less hurt than he’d look shot though. “You see, he’s a typical power-sort. He hates it when I have a say… kind of like what you went through, isn’t it? It kills him that he can’t make you or ME focus ANYWHERE but on HIM… that’s what this camera’s about… is… isn’t…” He snapped his head back to attention, he didn’t know how he could possibly faint in this position, so he really and truly hoped to not find out.

Patricia smiled warmly, Spencer hated how sociopaths could do that. “You’re right. The clients, as nice as it is to have income, they aren’t what this is about.”

“No, this is about the pain and humiliation you felt. It could be anyone… it doesn’t matter at all who it is, actually. That’s the point right? You can do this to anyone because NO ONE did ANYTHING to stop it for you…” Charlie set a particularly frisky pace on the pump and for the second time that day Reid was reminded of vacuums… he winced, this was anything but pleasant.

For a moment he seriously debated giving up milk products, but coffee would be too lonely without latte foam, and if he was living, he wasn’t quitting THAT.

“You are a stubborn, stubborn man.” Patricia laughed. “Your running out of time, here. If you don’t get off I’m shooting him.” She opened the chamber and spun it before slapping it back in.

Reid’s eyes went wide in sheer panic, “Think about what you’re doing, Patricia! If you break this rule NOW… NOW after I’ve been playing by your rules this whole time—that… that would invalidate the entire purpose of your game! It… it would undermine the FAIRNESS you built IN… you give people CHOICES, choices you didn’t get!”

She paused. Reid’s body shifted, his knee was cramping too much for this position, he knew he’d collapse soon… he had to get her away from Hotch before then. That was the game wasn’t it? If he martyrs himself good enough she lets him live…

“I’m forfeiting this round. No one is going to want to watch this. You’re disgusting.” She growled. He knew that wasn’t what this really was though, no. While he did feel disgusting, what she detested was that he was RIGHT. “Substitution optional, you give that piston head for… five minutes on high, or I shoot him in the shoulder.”

“I’ll do it.” Reid didn’t even consider her motives. He already endured longer before with Charlie’s fumbling around, the machine would hurt, it would also keep him essentially gagged and he guessed that was her point. She didn’t want to hear him profile her.

He only vaguely realized he hadn’t even thought through that he had one minute before the answer. She rolled her eyes disinterestedly. “I thought, because you were so pretty, I thought you might be a good showing. You’re pathetic, even a teenaged girl got into it more.”

She handed Charlie the gun and approached Reid. She pulled the piston back, Reid’s legs slumped, his weight collapsing on his joints in the difficult position.

He saw something in her eyes that unnerved him.

“You consent as long as it’s you and not HIM right?” She smirked, she even let out a laugh.

“I do.”

She backhanded him across the bottom lip. “What makes you so fucking great, huh?! You think you can act better than the other people who came here? Control yourself? So your friend has a thing about losing power, it what? Emasculates him? Wonder how he’ll feel after I choke you then. Oh, did you still want to talk?”

Her fingers quickly wrapped tightly around Reid’s throat, the far away sound of a camera hitting the floor registered Reid’s ears long before the sound of a chair breaking over someone’s head did.

Gunshots, though, that stuck with him. His eyes wildly fought to gain some clarity, to see where the shots were coming from- who was being shot at… It became much easier when Patricia fell to the side, as she went, Reid realized some of the implements he had seen under the bed in a box of horrors.

“…Knife…” He rasped out, the scream barely broke a hoarse whisper despite his need to communicate it further.

Somehow, Hotch is uncuffing his hand, Reid realized that their cuffs must have been used against them as well. Within three seconds, Hotch has Patricia face-down, cuffed and tossed into a corner beside her dead partner. He undid the cuffs around Reid’s wrists before hoisting him further up and onto the bed.

While Spencer appreciates the efforts, he’s not sure of any ultimate benefit from it. He realized he had to be bleeding, he’d wager rather impressively if the swimming feeling was any indicator.

In attempts to see what they were working with, Reid let his head loll to the sides to take in the room.

“Spencer, look at me…”

He quickly trained his eyes to Aaron, he hadn’t seen all of it, but he had seen the worst of it. It was hard to prioritize emotions, he was unsure where the team was, if the others were hurt- dead… had Patricia Dean and Charlie Lauers killed them? Did they even see Seaver?

He wasn’t even sure where they were. He didn’t think he’d handle this rate of blood loss without serious medical intervention…

“Look at me, Spencer…!” Hotch reiterated. He blinked his eyes, he’d been doing nothing but that this entire damn time… he really felt the anger was unfair.

Reid squinted a glare, it really was pathetic with as little energy as he had behind it to back it up.

“I’m going to move you, I need you to stay awake.”

“Tha’s …not a great idea…” He squinted his eyes shut then open, “I’ll lose too much blood… if you move me…”

“You’re still bleeding now. I’m getting you top-side.”

“Stubborn…” For a moment he registers the hurt in his lover’s eyes. “…Aaron, there’s no way… I’d ever let them shoot you… if I had a choice. Ever.”

The thought is disrupted by the sound of a door as it falls from it’s hinges.

“Oh look, Morgan’s at the door…” Reid offered lightly, “Is there… anything I can get covered up with? I don’t needs LEOs getting an eye-full… enough people have don’t you think?”

Before he could receive an answer, he felt the warmth of a sweater fall into his lap. “Morgan get EMTs down here NOW.” Hotch let out, he continued to watch Reid, as unnerving as that was by this point.

“Aaron, for the love of god, I’m not going to disappear or die in the next five seconds, stop watching me… today has been long enough.”

Several agents and LEOs swarmed the small space as Hotch stood sentinel.

“What you did was… reckless…”

“It was the best option we had. I already told you, I couldn’t choose to let them try to shoot you… I can take this, this, this is pain. What watching you get shot would be- that isn’t hurt that ever goes away. If you had died- I wouldn’t have survived. I’m sorry you had to watch… I wanted you to stay unconscious…”

He faltered.

“…I… you know I didn’t… even for a second… I didn’t enjoy…”

“Christ, Spencer, of course I know that!” His hand hovered as if to search out a spot he could touch Reid and not contaminate evidence… or break him, he really wasn’t sure what Aaron’s criterion was. He settled on his right forearm.

“…They used my gun.” Reid said almost inaudibly. “She had MY gun aimed at you…”

“Spencer, there is so much more going on right now than that…” He let out an incredulous breath, he caught sight of a paramedic with a stretcher. “Looks like your ride is here.”

“Aaron… you’ll come for me later, won’t you…?”

“You are going to have to face that I am never letting you out of my sight again.” Aaron warned, the warmth in it allowed Reid to let out a sigh, as he did, salty tears streaked down his face. He moved his hands to try to wipe them away, the relief he felt, but they refused to stop even as his body refused to waste more fluid in their production. Instead he rubbed at his scratchy eyes to knock away whatever was left there.

CM

Four AM on a Saturday, Reid had been in bed for a week straight in a hospital only to be ushered back to Virginia for like treatment. He stared at the ceiling.

“Go back to sleep.”

“…You are taking that chair out of this room and never EVER bringing it back in here again.” Spencer offered, his voice shaky. “And then you are going to come back in here and lay down, it’s 4 AM, Aaron. Fucking sleep.”

He heard the chair drag out of the room, and after ten minutes wondered just where Aaron had wandered off to.

As 4:15 angrily glared from the red alarm clock backlighting, Spencer glared at the ceiling. Now HE couldn’t sleep. He slowly, gingerly, sat up. Even slower still, he worked his feet under him and onto the floor. He inched toward the corner of the bed closest to the door, from experience he knew this was an unpleasant waltz at best.

By 4:23 AM, he had forced his feet to support his weight and staggered to the wall, which he casually slammed into to recalibrate his own balance. He had lost enough blood to warrant emergency fluids, but yet he was just shy of the mark to get packed blood cells to pull up his count.

He clutched the door for several minutes before he pulled open the knob and half-tripped over nothing at all.

A foot-fall later and it hadn’t been a half-trip, it had been a clatter to the floor. He looked up from the ground in utter misery. They had warned him to be careful, to make sure not to walk around alone, that getting up by himself would be next to impossible… “Aaron!” He let out as loud of a whisper as he’d risk. He didn’t want Jack waking up to him collapsed on the floor. He assumed good parenting would be when kids didn’t see that sort of thing.

A light turned on in the living room the floor below. “Aaron…!” He attempted again. He knew he wasn’t about to roll over and stand himself up, but he could manage a short little crawl, he’d already lost enough dignity to care, well not really. But nothing about this situation was particularly forgiving, so he lurched toward the steps in a military crawl that left him utterly spent all for a grand total of 7 feet.

“Aaron…!”

Aaron was at the bottom of the stairs, clearly trying to hear if he really heard Spencer call for him when he locked eyes with the figure face-down.

“Spencer!” He rushed over, “What- how are you…”

“Been better. I fell when I got up- you didn’t come back.” Spencer managed, he looked at the floor then back to his lover. “I didn’t want the chair in there, that never meant I didn’t NEED you in there with me… I don’t want to be alone… not to those nightmares… so please… please come back to bed.”

“Alright, but first I have to get you up now…” He winced, he wasn’t sure there was an easy way to manage that without hurting him…

“Wall, if I get to the wall, you can help me roll back to my stomach… and… then I should be able to sit up.”

“Right, sounds like a plan.” He smiled gently at the younger man and after several more moments, Aaron pulled Spencer back to his feet, an arm around the small of his back and another clutched his arm to take more of his weight as Spencer staggered slowly back into the bedroom.

With a smooth motion, Aaron deposited Spencer on the bed and helped pull his legs up onto the mattress. Spencer quickly grabbed his wrist and pulled it to his face.

“…Aaron, we’re ok, aren’t we?”

The absolute sadness that he saw took Aaron aback.

“Spencer…?”

“…I… please, I need to know I didn’t lose you…” Aaron eclipsed Spencer’s face as he leaned in and kissed him chastely on the lips.

“I am not going anywhere, but we both know what that kind of trauma does, I want you to feel safe here, I don’t ever want to come off as threatening I just…”

“Then lay down with me?” He nuzzled Aaron’s hand, “It sounds preposterous, even admitting it to myself, but… if I was in there alone, if it was just me… I’d have let them shoot me and get it over with.”

Aaron’s face faltered.

“I wouldn’t have been able to make it through that alone… and… I know you didn’t want to have to see that, to bear witness to it… but I couldn’t …there’s no way I’m stronger than you, I couldn’t have watched if they were killing YOU… there’s no way… and it would never go away, even now I just get this image and it’s enough to make it hard to breathe…”

“Calm down, deep breaths, I’m here and I’m not going anywhere. I mean it. We’re good, Spencer. We’re good. I’m not letting the man I love out of my life that easily. You might literally have to kill me to get me to leave.”

Spencer let out a shaky, tired smile, “Well, they’d be wont to suspect… so I’d have to pick something crafty, natural causes… very, very old age…”

Aaron leaned his head into Spencer’s shoulder, “Yeah… yeah I think that’s how I’d have you go too.” He stood before he adjusted the nightlight near the door and then slid into the bed to Spencer’s left. “Is it… alright if I—?”

Spencer curled his head into Aaron’s neck, closing the distance between them before he closed his eyes again. “Better… much better.”

Fin.


End file.
